Cars
by invisiblelotus
Summary: AU in which Dean is a Youtuber and his husband, Castiel, is a professor. This started out as a one shot, now it's kind of a series.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey babe, I'm home!" A tall and muscular blonde slammed the bright red door to his apartment behind him. He walked briskly to the small kitchenette where he sat a large duffel bag on the island with a clank.

As he peered inside the fridge for a little something to drink he felt two arms wrap around his waist and a chin rest on his shoulder. "Welcome back, Dean." The green eyed man grinned. "I hope your day was more productive than mine."

Dean turned around to face the other man, running his fingers through his thick black hair. "Asthma giving you trouble again?" He smiled weakly, squinting his electric blue eyes like he always did when he'd done something he wasn't supposed to do. "Cas, you can't keep pushing yourself like that." Dean gave him a concerned look.

Castiel only rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh, don't worry about me," he said breathily, glancing over to the dark green, canvas duffel bag. "Did you get that new camera equipment you wanted?"

A smirk played across Dean's lips. "Of course I did." He unzipped the bag, revealing a shiny, sleek, black camera with a matching tripod, microphone, and light system. "Top of the line, professional, high definition camera; matching accessories sold separately." The proudest look was plastered on Dean's tan, freckled face. Through months of endless toil he had managed to save up enough money through his meager Youtube earnings to buy this special camera. He had insisted against letting Castiel help him pay for the thing, even though he made quite a bit more than Dean with his job as a college professor. Finally attaining his dream made his heart sing. Though the real reason he loved the camera so much was because its color scheme resembled that of his black 1967 Chevy Impala which was his pride and joy.

"I'm so proud of you. Want to have a drink to celebrate and then I can help you set this thing up?" Castiel knew he had said the right thing when Dean began grinning from ear to ear. "I'll take that as a yes."

The blonde nodded vigorously and pulled two bottles of IPA out of their grungy dorm sized refrigerator. Pop! He removed the cap of the first bottle and handed it to his husband. "You're going to love it Cas! It's absolutely perfect." He gave Cas the impression of a puppy drooling over a fresh milk bone, which made him chuckle a little. Pop! Dean tossed the second cap into the bin and took a swig.

Wires ran all across their tiny living room, threatening to trip anyone who may dare to tread upon them. Taking extra care not to step on a particularly thick black cord, Dean made his way across the room where Castiel was diligently typing away on their shared MacBook. "Hey, Cas," he tapped on his shoulder, "is the hdmi cable completely plugged in?" A soft mhm answered his question. "Can you check again?" Dean said shakily. The last thing he needed was for something to be wrong with his brand new camera.

Cas just looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Have you turned on the outlet strip?" A look of realization washed over Dean's face. "Give it a shot." Cas returned to his typing.

Crouching down to reach the outlet strip, Dean flipped the red button on. "And I am a total idiot." The orange charging light on the camera began flashing. He heard a soft chuckle from across the room. Picking up his brand new camera, he pressed record and aimed it at the man sitting in the plush, green bean bag. "Smile for the camera!"

The moment Cas whipped around and saw the red recording light he groaned. "Dean, you know I don't like to be on camera!"

Dean's perfect lips formed into a smirk. "Don't be shy! You look like a million bucks!" A squirtle plushie came flying at Deans head. "Ha! Don't be that way!" He pouted defiantly.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Cas to hide his grin.

Beep! Beep! Beep! The obnoxious alarm clock blared at eight in the morning, prompting Castiel to slam his hand down on the snooze and dive back under the covers in hopes to snuggle with Dean. It was too early for college, too early for being awake. When he threw his arms over to the other side of the bed he wasn't surprised to find it empty. As usual, Dean had gotten up at the crack of dawn.

One foot on the floor at a time, Castiel told himself. The floor can't be too cold, right? Wrong. He grimaced when his tired feet hit the chilly wooden floor boards. That was always, without a doubt, the worst part of the morning. But being used to having frozen feet, Cas made the effort to stumble to his chestnut dresser and put on slacks and a white button up shirt. He sighed in relief when he slid on his socks and shoes. Ah, no more frostbite.

He dashed into the kitchen, his head still spinning from standing up too quickly earlier, and noticed a plate full of toast and a hot mug of tea beside it. English Breakfast Tea, he discerned from the scent. A smile graced his lips.

"Morning" Dean said from his laid back position on the sofa. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and browsing the Internet, as he usually did in the mornings.

Cas grinned. "You didn't have to do this. Though it's incredibly sweet."

"Do what?" Dean winked. "Eat up babe, don't you have four lectures to go to today?"

This was so like him. Being thoughtful was definitely Dean's strong suit. "Five. Do you mind if I take this to go?"

Dean popped up from his seat as Cas walked towards the door. "Hey, be safe today." He planted a firm kiss onto Cas' lips and handed him his inhaler. "Love you."

Cas nodded and smiled. "I will be. I love you too."

The Café was swamped with college girls as usual, leaving Cas the only open table next to a pair of obnoxiously giggling girls, who he immediately recognized as students from his ten after two lecture. It was about one thirty and he still had forty minutes until his next lecture.

A loud shriek from the table across from him broke his razor sharp concentration on grading essays.

"He's totally hot, Jo!" The girl with curly black hair giggled.

"He's my future husband!" The blonde girl said.

"Not if I get him first!"

Just as Cas was beginning to wonder if those two would ever shut up, a piece of their conversation managed to grab his attention.

"Oh my god, Lisa, Dean just posted a video!" Jo giggled at her phone. "It's an apartment tour!"

Dean posted the apartment tour already? "We can watch it later, we should probably get to the lecture." The two girls gathered up their bags and walked briskly out of the Café.

"Now, what can you tell me about Pablo Neruda's style of poetry?" A lecture hall full of bored young adults stared blankly at the Professor at the front of the room. A few had their hands raised. "Yes, Mister Singer?"

A boy in the front row spoke. "He likes to make use of repeating lines?"

"Close, but not quite what I'm looking for." Castiel Novak scanned his pupils for someone willing to answer but two girls in the back row that were giggling caught his eye. They were both looking down, the light from a phone illuminating their faces. Cas sighed and walked up the stairs to the two girls who were whispering to each other while watching Dean's apartment tour on YouTube. They were so absorbed in watching Dean show off his model car collection that they didn't notice their professor standing behind them.

The blonde girl whispered, "What kind of car do you think he drives?" To the other girl who shrugged her shoulders.

Cas cleared his throat loudly. "Don't ever get Dean Winchester started on his car. He will never shut up." The two girls looked up at him, dumbfounded, as he held out his hand for the phone. "You'll get it back at the end of my lecture." Feeling a little bit smug, Professor Novak sauntered back to the front of the classroom and resumed teaching.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hi there, it's me again. It's been quite a while since I posted the first chapter of this story, and honestly, I didn't think I was going to do a second chapter, but here I am. I like to think my writing has improved a bit since the first chapter was published, so hopefully this is better than the last one. Like the first one, it's set in the same AU. Well here's the second chapter (long overdue, I know.) I hope you enjoy it!**

"Dean." Poke. "Deeeaan." Poke poke.

Castiel's hand was swatted away and he gave an offended scoff. Dean rolled his eyes. "Can I help you?" His tone was less than pleased. The light from the desktop illuminated the side of his face as he glowered.

A guilty smile graced Cas's face. "There might be a Christmas party with my coworkers and I might want you to be my plus one." He said. Hopefully Dean would want to go with him despite his reservations about parties, especially if they were fancy. It wasn't often that he could convince Dean to leave the house for one, but it was usually worthwhile when he could.

"No." He said, plainly and simply. He continued to stare intently at the screen and resumed editing his latest video. Dean seemed dead set on ignoring Cas.

Snow was falling softly outside, coating their apartment's window sill with a fine layer of white. "Oh come on, it'll be fun. I promise." He laid his head on Dean's shoulder, nuzzling his neck. He also pretended not to notice Dean's ears turn scarlet, for Dean's sake mostly. He still didn't budge though. "It's only going to be myself and the staff. So, nobody you haven't met before. And," he poked at his sides playfully, "your brother will be there."

This caught his attention. "Sammy?" His green eyes shot up in interest. "So he's going as Jess's plus one?"

Cas hoped that his sudden interest would play to his advantage. "So you'll go?" He asked.

Dean grimaced and furrowed his brow. "Maybe." At seeing the hopeful look on Cas's face he added. "Okay fine. But just because I'm a sucker for your puppy dog eyes and I haven't seen Sam in forever." Castiel cocked an eyebrow. "Shut up."

He laughed breathily. "I never said anything." Cas smirked when Dean's cheeks turned pink. "That's a nice color on you, Dean." Cas said.

A couch pillow had found its way onto Castiel's face. "Stuff it." Dean grumbled good naturedly. He could hear Cas's muffled laughter behind the pillow and began to laugh too. "Now look what you've done. You've gone and made me laugh. You demon." He grinned.

Cas peeked over the pillow. The corners of his eyes were crinkled, a tell tale sign that he was smiling. "No, I believe I am- what's the phrase- a perfect little angel." He finished thoughtfully, warranting a glare from Dean.

"If you don't watch it I'll make you go on camera with me, professor Novak." Dean said and waggled his eyebrows threateningly.

Cas pulled down the pillow and glowered at Dean. "You wouldn't." He said seriously.

"Oh, but I would."

He squinted his blue eyes. "I'll revoke your cuddling privileges, or worse, for a week." Even though he and Dean knew he didn't have the resolve to carry out such a promise, it was effective in silencing him. With Dean quiet and no longer zeroed in on the computer, he grinned. "So I was thinking matching tuxes."  
Cas dodged another pillow.

Everybody hated lectures. There was nothing fun about being talked at for an hour and a half. It wasn't enjoyable for the students and it certainly wasn't enjoyable for the professor, Castiel resolved. After all, he was the one at the front of the classroom.

Instead of simply lecturing, he tried his best to teach. That often meant requiring class participation and group projects. It wasn't easy to successfully engage his students in class, but it was always rewarding when he did. "Get into groups of three, please, and begin color marking Pablo Neruda's "I can write the saddest verses." And discuss his usage of the night motif and how he uses it to develop the central theme of the poem. In thirty minutes I will call on groups to discuss your findings." Five minutes of chaotic group forming noise later, his students were busy talking about poetry and Castiel Novak had some time to grade papers.

Bobby Singer, top of the class, had received high marks on his analysis of "Heights of Macchu Picchu." Ferguson Crowley earned similar marks for his analysis. While he didn't much care for Mr. Crowley's attitude for class participation, there was no denying he was academically on par with Mr. Singer and his other brightest students. So he was two papers down with sixty seven to go. Winter break couldn't come soon enough.

Just as he was beginning to grade Abbigale Donovan's paper, his phone started to buzz noisily on his desk. He walked into his office to take the call. "Hello?" Cas said into the phone.

"Hey, hot stuff." A familiar voice came through.

Cas sighed. "Dean, we talked about this. I'm at work."

"So you don't want me to bring you lunch?"

"I never said that. What are you bringing?"

"Pure unadulterated deliciousness."

"Translation please?"

"It's a surprise."

"Dean, I-"

"Don't like surprises. Yeah, yeah, I know. But you'll like this."

"Okay, okay. When will you be stopping by?"

"I'm actually at the college right now. I figured I'd wait for your lecture to be over and then give it to you."

"How courteous of you to call me instead."

"Sheesh, grumpy. I'll see you in a bit."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Love you too."

Cas grinned at his phone and tucked it into his suit's pocket. He couldn't help but wonder what sort of meal Dean would bring him, but he distracted himself with grading papers for the next twenty minutes. As he reached the bottom of the stack for his first class, thirty minutes was up.

"Miss Braeden, Harvelle, and Donovan." He called on the three girls in the back. "What are some of your conclusions about the poem?"

Jo Harvelle was the first one to answer, as usual. "We initially thought the night motif was there to set the tone for the poem, but we then realized that it's a symbol for his feelings."

"Very good, please elaborate."

This time it was Lisa Braeden who picked up the answer. "Well, he talks about how he used to be happy with her on similar nights, but when she left, it turned into a symbol for his loneliness and the lack of her presence." The professor nodded his head in appreciation and moved on to call on his other students.

"The analysis of the next three poems are due the day you return from break, so I would not procrastinate if I were you. You are dismissed." Dean walked into the classroom against the steady flow of students leaving for break with a brown paper bag in hand and a grin on his face.

"Delivery for professor Novak!" Dean shouted out, causing a few girls to turn their heads abruptly. But Cas wasn't focused on anyone else. Mouth watering for multiple reasons, he grinned at the blond man in front of him.

"Why, thank you." Cas said. He wasn't sure he wanted to alert Dean to the girl that was standing behind him, gawking. The same girl he caught watching Dean's apartment tour in a lecture two days earlier. "What do I owe you?" He smirked.

"Nothing at all. It seems you have an admirer." Dean said with a sly wink.

"If you see them, make sure to give them my most sincere gratitude." Cas said.

Dean looked as if he were about to say something flirtatious when a girl squealed in glee. "Oh my god! You're Dean Winchester!" An open mouthed Lisa Braeden ogled them. "You know Dean Winchester!"

Dean laughed. "I take it you watch my channel?" Lisa nodded vigorously.

"My name's Lisa."

"Good to meet you. I was just bringing Cas here some lunch before he starves to death." He smiled kindly and put an arm around Cas's shoulders. Lisa stared at the contact.

"Wow. I- uh- wow. What kind of car do you drive?" She said bluntly.

Dean laughed while Cas groaned. "A nineteen sixty seven Chevy Impala. Her name is Baby. I'd tell you all about her, but you'll know it anyways if you watch my next video." He said sheepishly.

"When are you uploading it?" Lisa asked cheerily.

"Tonight, most likely. That is, if Cas here lets me do my editing instead of pestering me about a Christmas party." Cas felt his face burn as Dean affectionately teased him.

Amusement played behind Lisa's eyes. "Thank you for the lunch Dean." Cas said, face red.

"Any time, Cas. See you at home." He said and kissed Cas quickly on the cheek. "Nice to meet you, Lisa." And then he sauntered off, leaving a stunned Lisa and a slightly blushing Castiel.

"Oh my god. Dean Winchester kissed you."

 **Post Script: I would highly recommend reading some Pablo Neruda. His poems are fantastic.**


	3. Chapter 3

If Cas liked anything about sleep, it was the peace it gave him. One of the only times he could breathe easy was when he was in blissful relaxation. So, needless to say, he was less than pleased when Dean shook him awake before seven AM. While, of course, he always welcomed his husband's presence and enjoyed his company, anyone who woke him up before he was ready wasn't going to get off easy.

Dean's warm hand on his bicep might have felt nice if it weren't shaking him into consciousness. He could feel the metal of Dean's wedding band against his arm. "Cas. Cas." He pushed Dean's hand away. "Come on, get up. Sammy's here."

"Dean, it's too early for Sam. Go back to sleep." Cas said and burrowed his head into Dean's chest.

He could feel Dean grin as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Okay. You can sleep if you want, but you'll miss out on the pancakes." Dean said, making Cas scowl. It was a clear ultimatum. Rejoin the world of the living or miss out on the best pancakes in the world. Vowing to get him back for this tumultuous morning, he began to stir and slowly opened his eyes to the dim sunlight peeking through their blinds. "I'll be in the kitchen." He said and gave Cas one last kiss to the forehead before hopping out of their bed.

Why couldn't he just stay buried in blankets all day? Drowning out the world in favor of sleep seemed like a logical thing to do, but he could smell pancakes. No matter how tempting the bed was, pancakes matched and exceeded it. As he stepped onto the floors, he instantly mourned the loss of the rapidly fading warmth and wrapped one of the smaller blankets around himself for good measure and stumbled into the kitchen.

Sam was leaning against their counter sipping on a cup of coffee and talking quietly to Dean. A stack of pancakes were waiting beside the griddle for Cas to claim. "Hello Sam." He droned, "What are you doing here?" At this ungodly hour, he wanted to add. He grimaced at the kitchen's ceiling light. Why did everything have to be so bright? He wondered.

His brother-in-law gave a little snort of laughter. "Ah, c'mon, Cas, still not a morning person, huh?" Cas glared. "Sorry about being here so early, but I just got back from California an hour ago. I just wanted to drop in and see you and Dean before I went home." Cas considered himself to be fortunate to have Sam as not only his brother-in-law, but also as his friend.

"Sam, of course you're always welcome here. Is Jessica still visiting her sister in Chesterfield?" Cas asked and began to cut into his pancakes.

Sam nodded. "She'll be home tomorrow in time for the Christmas party though." Dean groaned. Jessica, Sam's wife, was a biomechanics professor and a colleague of Cas, who had, in fact, introduced them. "So Cas managed to coax you into going?" He turned to his brother and hid his barely contained grin.

Cas realized that this could be the perfect opportunity to repay Dean for waking him up. "It was easier than I thought it would be. Apparently he's a sucker for my "puppy dog eyes." That's the phrase you used, right Dean?" He realized it was a bit malicious, but well deserved and worth it when Sam busted out laughing.

Dean was beet red. "Shut up! I said no such thing!"

"Masculinity is so fragile." Sam said.

"Your face is fragile!" Dean crossed his arms.

"That made no sense-" Cas began to say.

"Let him have this small victory." Sam smiled and took another sip of his coffee. "So, uh, Dad called the other day," Sam said, despite his casual tone, the comment stripped away anything relaxed about the conversation, "and he wanted to know how you've been, since you haven't called him in a while."

Dean set down his coffee and stared at Sam blankly. "I have nothing to say to that man." Cas raised his eyebrows from behind his own coffee; John Winchester was a sore spot for Dean.

Sam huffed indignantly. "It's been four years, Dean. He's just trying to reach out." Cas knew he didn't have any place in this exchange. He never met John Winchester, which he was glad for, but from the stories he'd heard, he was surprised Sam and Dean turned out as well as they did. Sam, a successful lawyer with a beautiful wife; Dean, a YouTuber and professional photographer with an expansive following that grew by the month. These two men which he held so dear, how could they have been raised by the man that was John Winchester? "Give him a chance."

Dean laughed sadly. "The same way he gave me a chance when I came out?" He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Like he always did when he was frustrated with his brother, Sam ran a hand along his stubble and gritted his teeth. "He's sober now. Been going to AA meetings for six months strong. Dean, he's different."

No matter how much he wanted to interject into the conversation, Cas was powerless. The tension between the brothers was at its breaking point, and someone had to give. "Just call him?" Sam tried.

"Give me time, Sam!" He slapped down the dishcloth he was holding. "Just cause he's sober doesn't mean he's not a douche. I call him up, shit is going to go sideways."

Sam glared at Dean for a moment before resigning, "Fine. I won't make you talk to him, but you should know he's in a better place now."

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fists. This was by no means an easy conversation. "Let's just drop it, okay?" He clapped his hands together. "Who's hungry?"

Cas unclenched his jaw and gave a faint smile. The pancakes smelled like heaven, and he was eager to sink his teeth into them. He grabbed his plate and moved over to the table, wrapping his blanket tighter around him. The best thing about a Sunday morning was that there was no rush; Cas could eat his pancakes at his own pace, and not have to worry about being at the university by a certain time. All was right in the world on Sunday mornings.

"I'd hate to dine and dash, but I should really get going." Sam said.

Dean nodded. "That's understandable. Give Jessica my best." He clapped his brother on the shoulder.

He chuckled. "Will do. I'll see you guys at the party in a couple of days." He winked and disappeared out the door.

"Bastard." Dean muttered under his breath while he began to clean up the pancake mess.

Cas put his plate in the sink. "He's a good Brother, you know?" He snaked his arms around Dean's waist and hugged him from behind.

Dean snorted. "Sometimes I wish he'd mind his own business. There's a reason dad and I don't talk anymore."

"True, but Sam means well. You don't have to, but I think you should give it a try. Call your father, I mean."

Dean spun to face Cas. "Excuse me? You're seriously taking his side? John Winchester hates me. Period."

He gave a serious look. "I'm not saying you have to, but what harm could it do to try? Maybe he really has changed. It's not like it could get much worse."

Dean's eyes hardened. "It can always get worse, Cas. You don't know him. The things he did to me and Sammy when we were kids. It still messes with my head. I- I can't talk to him." His shoulders visibly slumped.

Cas knew it was true. He'd seen the scars that John Winchester put on Dean's body, heard the stories of the psychological abuse. The blue eyed man put a hand on his husband's shoulder. "You don't have to, Dean. Is there anything I can do to get this off your mind?" He asked.

Dean smirked, the stress and worry of the tense conversation slipping away. "Well, now that you mention it," he slipped his thumbs under the elastic of Cas's boxers, "I'm sure we can think of something." Cas practically purred and went in for a kiss. All was well on a Sunday morning.


End file.
